


Let Someone See Right Through

by avintagekiss24



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, F/M, Floor Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Past Infidelity, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avintagekiss24/pseuds/avintagekiss24
Summary: Two strangers meet at a bar on their birthday.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	Let Someone See Right Through

**Author's Note:**

> First fill for my Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 card!  
> B1: Kink - One Night Stand

You move into the packed bar from the street, instantly having to curve your body to slide through a dense group of people. You steadily pick your way to the bar and by the grace of God, find an empty seat next to a well dressed stranger. You smile absentmindedly at him as you plop down, turning your phone over on the bar to block the barrage on incoming text messages and wiggle your fingers towards the bartender. 

“Hi darlin’” the man smiles, winking at you, “What can I get ya?”

“Umm, a martini? Dry.”

He nods his head towards you, “You look young.” He smiles again, holding out his fingers.

You roll your eyes as a playful smile curls onto your lips and dig through your clutch, whipping out your ID, “Not that young, I’m sorry to say.”

He glances down at it before handing it back, “Happy birthday. This one’s on the house.”

You smile genuinely, accepting your ID back, “Thank you. That’s sweet.”

You let out a breath as you tuck your ID back in your purse, “I’m sorry,” you hear a voice say, making you snap your head towards it, “I don’t mean to get in your business, but, today’s your birthday?”

The man beside you smiles softly at you as he spins the tall glass of golden liquid between his hands. You can’t help but smile back. He’s  _ handsome _ . His jaw is strong and covered in a light stubble, his eyes are big and blue; deep set. His hair is short and messy. It looks soft and you’ll be goddamned if you’re not a sucker for a soft haired man….  _ What’s the word again? Fuck, you can practically hear it rolling off of Antonia’s tongue… _

You shake your head quickly and cover the side of your face with your hand when you realize you’ve drifted off. You laugh at yourself and nod, “Yes, sorry. Yes, it is my birthday today. Sorry I - it’s been a long day.”

“That’s okay,” he answers, the smile still occupying his face, “It’s my birthday too.”

“No shit?” Your eyes light up as the smile widens on your face.

“No shit. Thirty eight.” He nods slowly, dropping his eyes back to the glass in front of him. 

“No shit!” You exclaim, turning your attention back to the bartender for a brief moment as he slides your martini in front of you, “Me too. I’m thirty eight today too. How funny.”

He turns back to you, a lopsided smirk on his face before he takes a sip of his beer, “You don’t look thirty eight.”

“Do you honestly think I’d admit to being thirty eight if I wasn’t telling God's honest truth?” You laugh, “You don’t look thirty eight either, to be perfectly honest.”

He shrugs as he chuckles and finishes off his beer before waving for another, “Women lie about their age all the time.”

“Yeah,” you agree, sipping your drink, “They do, but just a little tip for you here, they usually age  _ down _ , not up.”

“Not necessarily,” he says, wagging his finger, “I’ve run into quite a few eighteen year olds that are suddenly twenty seven.”

You close your eyes and scrunch your face as vivid memories of your eighteen year old self rocket to the forefront of your mind, “Not gonna lie,” you laugh, “I used to do that.”

“See!” The friendly stranger smiles, pointing at you quickly before he dissolves into laughter again, “I believe you though, just this one time, I’ll, I’ll believe you.”

“Well, thank you.” You laugh, playing along with his sarcasm. You lift your glass towards him, “Cheers to that, huh? Two thirty somethings believing one another.”

The two of you clink your glasses together and each take a sip, your eyes lingering on one another. You shy away, dropping your head and tucking some of your loose curls behind your ear. You cover your smile with your palm as you rest your elbow against the bar and blink back at him, quite enjoying the fact that you have his attention. His smile grows at you, his eyes move around your face and down your down neck before he breaks the contact to take another taste of his beer. 

Your phone vibrates loudly against the old bar again, causing you to groan loudly. You pick it, your friend Antonia’s face lighting up the screen. 

“Antonia, please.” You say instantly as her thick Brazilian accent pours into your ear, “I’m  _ fine _ . Yes! I’m fine… because I wanna be alone, okay?... okay, yes, fine… okay, I’ll call you in the morning… I promise!... Yes!... I’m hanging up now… Antonia, Antonia, I’m hanging up.”

You tap the little red button to end the call and roll your eyes, but still laugh a little, “God, she's the worst sometimes!”

“Worried about you?”

“Yes,” you groan, “Like I’m five years old or some shit.” 

He chuckles, still spinning his glass slowly, “May I ask why you’re alone on your birthday?” He asks after a few moments of silence, his voice and tone low and serious. 

“Mmm,” you hum, “By choice really. I just… I don’t know, I just wanted to be by myself today. Enjoy my own company for once, you know?”

He nods slowly, “I hear that.”

You watch him as he fumbles with his glass and picks at the small, white napkin underneath it. Your eyes fall to the leather jacket that covers a black polka dotted button up and then drift back to his profile, “And you?” You ask, “Why are you alone today?”

He pushes his balled fist into his cheek and rests his head against it as he gazes back at you. His eyes search yours, as if he’s wondering if he should really tell you or not. A sadness washes through them and you sit up a little, your lips parting as you inhale, “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he smiles, his eyes drifting from you, “My twin sister, Rebecca, she um…”

His voice trails off and you grab for his hand, holding it tight as you fight back the sudden emotion in your throat. You shake your head quickly, trying to push the wetness that has invaded your eyes away and let out a breath. You don’t even need to hear the rest to know it’s tragic, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Your voice is warm and soft, so soft that you’re not even sure that he heard you over all of the noise. You watch as his eyes fall to your hands, as your thumb slowly strokes the back of his hand,  _ wanting  _ to comfort him. He squeezes back. 

“I just like being alone today.” He whispers as he swallows hard.

“I hear that.”

Your eyes drop to your hands. You watch as he lifts them, the pads of his fingers sliding along yours. He flattens his palm against yours and presses your fingers together, smiling a little as his large hand nearly swallows yours. On any other occasion, this connection would be weird; but for some reason, you’re bonding with this stranger that shares your day - and  _ fast _ . His sadness matches your own. It’s a connection that you haven’t felt or wanted to feel in a really,  _ really _ long time.

“I lied,” you say softly, watching as he links your fingers together, “I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me with my best friend last year on my birthday. I walked in on them.” You curl your fingers around his and press your thumb into his palm, “She texted me today, wishing me a happy birthday,” you laugh, “Isn’t that fucked up?”

He nods slowly, “That’s really fucked up.”

“She wanted to get together so we could talk and I just, I panicked. I didn’t want her showing up at my apartment so I just grabbed my jacket and walked here.”

He stares at you intently, his blue eyes piercing into you as you pour your heart out to him, “I’m sorry.”

You shrug and let out a breath through your nose, “It happens, right?”

“It shouldn’t,” he says softly, “Not to people like you.” 

You blink back at him as his words swirl around you. He lets his eyes roam over your face as you stare back at him. That lopsided grin appears on his face again and he releases your hand, only to press his index finger into the tip of your nose, “This is a cute nose.”   


You scoff but let the giggles pour from your chest. You down the rest of your martini and ask for another, before rubbing your face with your hands, “What are the odds that two sad ass people would meet up at the same bar on their birthdays?”

“Divine intervention maybe.”

You laugh gently as your second martini is placed in front of you. You don’t pick it up, you just look at it for a second before turning your head back to this gentle man. You find him looking at you - licking his lips slowly, and just  _ looking  _ at you. Your heart starts to beat a little harder; a little faster. Your breath stays easy and gentle but your mind starts to race with thoughts that haven’t crossed it in a long while. 

You reach for your glass and sip it slowly, flicking your eyes up at him over the round rim. You set it down, a soft clink sounding at the delicate glass collides with the wood of the bar. You rest your head against your palm as you lean against the bar, a smile of your own spreading on your lips as you gape at the soft haired, sad thirty eight year old next to you. You grab his hand again and twist your fingers within his, feeling the warmth of his skin against your own. 

He presses his thumb into your palm and rubs it gently, bringing your hand to his face. He puts his lips against the backs of your fingers and closes his eyes as he breathes you in. You lift your free hand and push it to his cheek, rubbing softly, letting the prickle of his short beard tickle your skin. He nuzzles into you and you’ve never wanted to take someone’s sadness away so bad. 

You tilt your head as you sweep your fingers over his chin, stroking gently as he relaxes into the touch of a pure stranger. It starts to click for you, right in that moment, as the two of you bond over the soft touches from one human to another. You never understood how this could happen, how you could meet someone in a bar and want to take them home. To want to ravish them and have them ravish you without knowing a damn thing other than the connection that the two of you built in an instant.

You’re the type to see forever in someone’s eyes - but that’s where you fucked up, isn’t it? Maybe it’s better to see just tonight in someone’s gaze.

“Two sad strangers.” You say softly.

He nods slowly again, “Maybe we were meant to save each other tonight.”

You take a breath, and then another, and another as you tilt your head in the opposite direction, staring at him all the while, “I’m starting to think that too.”

He tilts his head too, to match yours, and licks his lips again before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, “You like being in love.”

You blink at him and swallow. He doesn’t form it as a question. He states it, like he  _ knows  _ it. Like he can smell it on you that you aren’t  _ that  _ girl - but that you desperately want to be for him. You need to move on - and he knows it. 

“I can love you for tonight if you want me too.” He answers himself, his voice gentle and low. 

You nod before you can really think about it. You stand and grab your phone and clutch from the bar, digging through the small gold purse to throw some cash down. You take one last taste of your drink before you grab his hand again, barely giving him time to pay for his own drinks. 

You push out into the New York night, a brisk, sharp, cold breeze smacking against your body. He throws his arm over your shoulders and pulls you into his body, trying to shield you from the assault. He lets you guide him a few blocks towards your apartment in silence, shoving his hands in his pockets when you come to your building. You hold the door for him and head for the old elevator, waiting as he steps in before you shut the thin, metal scissor gate. 

You push the lever to the number of your floor and with a jolt, the two of you are hoisted up into the building. You stand on one side, he stands on the other, hands shoved in his pockets as he leans against the opposite wall - his eyes on you all the while. You swallow hard as you place your hand to your chest, suddenly flush with heat under his intense gaze. 

He pushes away from the wall as the slow elevator climbs higher into the building. Your breath becomes audible as he moves into your space. He slides his palm along your cheek, slipping the tips of his fingers into the edges of your hair as his thumb sweeps along your bottom lip and chin. Your lips part as your eyes bounce between his. He flattens his thumb on your cheek again and pulls you into him, crashing his lips to yours with force. 

You moan when his tongue slips along the roof of your mouth. He pulls away just long enough to tilt his head before he dives back into you, bringing his other hand to your face to hold you. He pins you against the wall and pushes his knee between the two of yours as he kisses you hard and deep. He pulls away again, but stays away - his mouth hanging open, his breath rough, his cheeks red. 

You stare back at him as his fingers curl around the back of your neck. Your chest heaves as you bite your bottom lip, quick flashes of what was before playing before your eyes. Your boyfriend, the feeling of his hands on your body, his lips on yours - reminding you of him. His laughter rings in your ears, his eyes stare back into yours…

“Are you okay?” 

The words bring you back into the present, back into the elevator. Your ex is gone and you blink back at the man before you. His eyes are wide and wild as his thumbs stroke your cheeks, “Are you okay?” He asks again.

You nod quickly and lean into him, wanting him to help make you forget. You push your mouth against his, moaning again as the old memories fade and the sounds of your mouths bounce off of the walls of the old, rickety elevator. It comes to halt seconds later but neither one of you seem to notice. You push your chest into his as you press your fingers into his lower back, pulling him into you harder, harder,  _ harder _ . 

His thigh is back between your legs as he nips at your jaw with his teeth, before pushing your head towards the ceiling with his fingers. You squeeze his leather jacket in your hands as you push your hips forward, rubbing your hot sex along his thigh as he nibbles and pecks at your exposed neck. You hiss loudly and let out a groan when he bites down into your flesh softly.

“God-” you breathe as he pulls your lower half into his. 

His hands drift up your sides to find your breasts. He kneads them gently,  _ slowly _ , as he pushes you harder into the wall, his tongue slipping along your bottom lip before it invades your wet mouth again. His lips move down your neck, along your collarbone, before they press into your cleavage through your shirt. He slides down to his knees, his lips trailing your body, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he goes.

He releases your hips to skim your bare legs with his fingertips, his light touch tickling your deprived skin as they skip along your limbs. He presses a hot kiss to the inside of your knee as you grip his shoulder and push forced, focused breaths out of your mouth. Within the blink of an eye, his face has disappeared underneath your skirt, his lips and nose pressing hard against the bundle of nerves at your center. 

You buck into his face as you hiss, biting down into your bottom lip. He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit, stroking it lightly through your underwear before he nuzzles face first into your heat. He takes a breath, a  _ deep  _ breath, and you shudder at the thought of him wanting your scent to fill him - to intoxicate him. 

You continue to push your hips into his face as his tongue pushes underneath your panties. Your body jerks at the sudden warmth and wetness his tongue provides - the soft friction - as he laps at your slit. You slam your back against the wall and let out a moan as the synapses in your body all start to fire, focusing your energy, electrifying your mind. 

The elevator starts to drop suddenly, and you slam your hand against the emergency stop button, halting it before it descends.

“Fuck,” you breathe heavily, “Sorry,” you call loudly to whoever called for the metal box, “Sorry, we’re- sorry.” 

You continue to mumble as you push on his shoulders, encouraging him to stand and move to the gate. You push it open and move off of it, your suitor close behind. You feel his chest against your back as you fumble with your keys, nearly dropping them when his fingers curve around your hip. You slam your key into the lock and twist it as he tightens his grip, digging the tips of his fingers into your skin. The door pops open and with a push of his hand, it swings and crashes into the wall with a loud thud before it starts to swing back closed. 

He pushes you forward, keeping his hand around your waist as the two of you cross through the threshold. He shuts the door with his foot and spins you around before wrapping his arms around your waist again. You drop your keys, your purse, your phone to the floor as you throw your arms around his neck and allow him to pick you right off of your feet. You press your hands into the side of his face as you kiss him again, smacking your lips against his as you steal his breath.

He holds you up with his sheer strength, your boot clad feet dangling before you wrap them around his waist. Your hands push into his jacket, stripping it from him, pushing it right off of his shoulders. You start pulling at his shirt, untucking it from his tight, black jeans before your fingers begin to pry at the buttons. Within seconds, his shirt is crumpled on this floor with his jacket, his bare, sculpted chest pressed against yours as he lays you down on the floor. 

He leans over you, holding himself up with one hand as the other pulls at your white top. He pulls it over your head, tossing it somewhere behind the two of you before he rucks your loose skirt up your waist. His fingernails scrape at your hips and thighs as he pulls your thong down your legs. You fumble with the button and zipper of his jeans, yanking it down before you push your hands underneath the denim, gripping his ass in your hands. 

He works the thick material down to his thighs before he falls on top of you, crushing his body to yours, pinning you to the floor. He encases your head in his hands as you pull his face back down to yours and kiss him again as he slams into you. You inhale deeply and slam your eyes shut as he fucks into you again, your body sliding up the wood floor. He flattens his mouth to yours and you take the opportunity to bite his bottom lip as his nose presses against yours - his hips grinding and pushing into yours. 

You reach down and palm his ass, pushing your fingers into his warm, thick flesh as he fucks you on the floor in the hallway of your apartment. Your free hand moves into his hair, grabbing a fist full before you pull on it, his hot breath washing over your face. It is soft - his hair - just like you thought it’d be.

_ Cafuné  _ \- it comes to you suddenly; the word you couldn’t think of earlier. It echoes in your mind as your fingertips scratch at his scalp before you pull on his hair again. You can hear Antonia’s voice as she rambled on in her thick spanish accent.  _ I just love to… mmm, cafuné… how do you say in ingles? Fingers in the hair, eh? There is nothing better than that.  _

You know what it  _ means  _ now. There really is nothing better than the feeling of his hair between your fingers; ethereal in this moment. You keep your hands in his hair and on his ass as he pushes his hips into yours, your muscles spreading for him. You’re nose to nose, mouth to mouth as you both grunt and groan into each other, swallowing each other's sounds as you breathe one another in. You stare into his eyes, his busy, big, blue eyes and he smiles back at you, and even laughs as he fucks into you. You laugh too - the joy, the freedom, spilling right out of you. 

He slides in and out of your wet muscles with ease as your hands grip his sides. Your fingers explore him as he ruts into you - up his back, into his hair, around his shoulders, along his biceps - then back to his ass. God, what an ass. You bite his chin as his hips get quicker, more frantic as the pressure begins to build between the two of you. 

Your legs start to shake, your toes curling as you quiver around his length. He works your breasts free of your thin bra and sucks one into his mouth, his tongue circling and flicking your nipple. You dig your nails into his skin as he pushes into you, his cock tickling the deepest part of you. He tugs at your nipple with his teeth before he sucks on it again - groaning into your skin all the while. 

You come hard. Your hips jerk up into his as they continue to pump into you. You bite down onto his shoulder, muffling the screams and squeals as your orgasm rips through your body. He grinds into you with all of his strength until he’s spilling into you, hot ribbons of his seed coating your walls as he spurts. 

You both drag in ragged breaths as you start to come down from the high you’ve made. He keeps his arms around you, encasing you, as he stares down at you. His mouth hangs, his eyes wander your face like he’s trying to etch it into his memory. He leans down and places his lips to yours in a chaste kiss; a soft kiss. Then he’s separated from you again, his eyes staring down into yours again.

Minutes have passed, maybe an hour - neither one of you are really sure. He’s slid off of you and lays on his side, his palm flat on the side of your face. Your leg is thrown over his hip, an arm strewn underneath his head as you stroke his long forearm. His black jeans are still pushed down over his ass as he buries his free hand into your hair. He brushes random strands of hair out of your face as he blinks at you, his eyes heavy as his thumb strokes your eyebrow. 

You lay there, just like that, all night. You both eventually drift off to sleep, corralled within each other's arms as the night turns into day. You breathe in deeply as you roll over onto your side, the sun breaking into your sleep state. You crack your eyes and find him there, his eyes already open, already on you. He smiles, and you do too. 

The two of you dress in silence. You offer him your bathroom as you wrap yourself in your silk robe. All the feelings that you thought you’d have after a night like that aren’t present, not even in the slightest. There’s no shame, no awkwardness - your mind and body, your  _ spirit  _ is free. Light. 

You follow him out to the elevator, your hands laced together during the short walk. He pulls the scissor gate and steps inside, letting you close it behind him. He leans forward and so do you, smiling and giggling softly as you kiss through the gate.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

You smooth your hair away and laugh, “Nice to meet you.”

“Happy birthday, stranger.” He says, pushing the lever to the ground floor. 

“Happy birthday, stranger.” You whisper back, wiggling your fingers slowly as he’s pulled down the building, out of sight. 

\----------

You move into the bar, pushing your way through the crowd as you fight to the bar. You’re not sure it always seems to be so busy on this particular day. 

“What can I get for you sweetie?” The bartender asks as soon as you approach.

“A martini please, dry.” You answer, a wide smile on your face.

“Can I get your ID really fast?”

“Of course,” you nod, digging through your purse, “It’s my birthday today.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiles back at you, glancing down at the thin plastic card.

“Yeah,” a voice sounds behind you. You don’t even have to turn around, you just smile back at the bartender as your heart flutters and the memories of the year before flood your mind, “She’s thirty nine today. Can I get a beer please?”

“ID, sir?”

You shake your head, “No need,” you say, pointing towards Bucky as he wiggles up beside you, his hand slipping around your hips, “It’s his birthday too.”

He leans against the old bar, a smile on his face as his eyes link with yours. You’ve missed that grin of his, “Hello stranger.” 


End file.
